


Look at what you've done

by petalSpitter



Category: The Property of Hate
Genre: Child Death, Drabble, Gen, why can't i write anything happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 05:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7494834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petalSpitter/pseuds/petalSpitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I see this fandom likes angst. Here's an angsty drabble I wrote. Be warned its a first draft with no proofreading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look at what you've done

RBG had never meant to let the hero leave his sight. He had kept his screen on them very carefully, warned then very sternly about the dangers of this garden, and- when they had stared too intently at a huckleberry bush- grabbed them by the collar to keep them moving. 

“Child, do not be deceived by the garden’s beauty. It. Is. Hungry.” He said sternly, guiding them down the cobblestone path, the only safe passage through the garden. (It really wasn't safe. Only slightly less dangerous. The alyssum growing through the brickwork was already eating the color right off the pair’s shoes.) 

Suddenly, the hand he was clasping was ripped out of his grasp, and all he could hear was the rustle of foliage as the child ran right into the heart of danger. 

“Hero!” He should have known. He should have just been in his way and found a new hero. 

“Hero! What did I tell you?” The man chases after them, using his cane to push the hungry leaves away.

“This garden will eat you ali-!” He stumbles upon a raspberry patch. The child was in a heap before it, all their color eaten away. 

“...hero?” RGB comes closer, smacking the encroaching raspberry bushes away. The man kneels before the child, pressing his fingers to their pulse. Nothing. 

There’s a silence as the realization hits him and settles in, and heavy grief draining all his color away. The garden, knowing it has no chance of another meal, deflates, turning its true grayscale again.

“...damnit. Damn it all.” He scoops them up and notices the sock beside them, drained of all color and life. RGB lays it on their chest, draping their hand over it. “I warned you. I warned you, didn't I?” The man turns back, headed for the path and rambling to himself. “I warned you, didn't I? Look at what happened. Damn it, I warned you, didn't I? I-I...” He feels a knot in his throat. He does not speak again for a long time. 

When the trio finally exits the garden sight of color is dizzying. However, they don't look like they belong, too grey and solemn for the iridescent meadows they’ve walked into. RBG finds a tree of pure opal, setting the child down beside it. 

“... I don't suppose this is like the fear, is it?” He looks away, letting the silence stretch on, hoping they might stir and answer. 

“That's what I thought. I... Don't suppose you liked opal in life?” He turns toward the child, giving them a good look up and down. The child looks like they're asleep. Like one dose of dreams or a good shake will wake them. 

But he learned his lesson a long time ago, and no dreams are big enough to make them wake up.

“Alright. Playing the quiet game?” He feels his throat go tight again. “Fine.” The word is more choked up than he could care to be. 

He snaps two branches off the tree, using a ribbon to make a cross before he starts digging.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and critique are always appreciated!


End file.
